


The Girl in the Tree

by ossseous (ozean)



Category: The Shannara Chronicles (TV)
Genre: Allanon and Ander sort of become Eretria's weird dads, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eretria-centric, F/F, Families of Choice, Fix-It of Sorts, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-11-23 15:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11405067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozean/pseuds/ossseous
Summary: How to mourn the loss of a loved one? Start by living in a tree.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my sort of canon divergent fix it fic I started almost a year ago and am just finishing up. I wanted to at least start posting it before the next season aired. I’m not even sure I’m going to watch it but I didn’t want it to have an effect on the story/make me want to change things if I did lol.

The chosen didn’t notice her until nightfall.

Earlier in the evening, just as the sun’s rays started to sink beyond the horizon, she had hoisted herself up onto the Ellcrys’ lowest branch. It seemed easy, like a muscle memory she couldn’t shake, ingrained after years of finding ideal spots for ambushes and climbing over fort walls in the consuming black of night.

Of course, her climb was made easier still with the gnarled footholds in the bark, a rather finely made weighted rope she stole off of some drifter 10 miles north of the palace, and her own healthy dose of confidence. Where that last one came from, she had never been quite sure.

All in all, it was one of her easier attempts at stealth. Perhaps the Ellcrys’ guards had been lulled into complacency in the time that had passed. They chatted amongst themselves, kicked stones with their feet, and generally seemed more bored than anything else. How quickly it seemed people could forget the sacrifices of others.

Her foot only slipped once on the way up, and while one of the guards did glance about in curiosity at her surprised hiss, he didn’t seem overly intent on investigating it further, turning back to his companion to deal out some cards for their game.

At first, she thought she might make it through the whole night without anyone below noticing. That high up, she could barely hear the light conversations that drifted around below. She was certain they were little more than rumors and gossip, tall tales of conquests both of the interpersonal and personal persuasion.

But it was fairly warm, the heat from the sun soaked into the earth, still radiating out long after it’s descent. If not for the slight chill that came drifting through on the breeze, she would’ve even called it pleasant. Eretria wondered if those were the kind of nights Amberle was used to, a little cold, bitter enough to keep her awake. While she was sure the night would get even colder, it was something she could get used to—at least until she had to make her way back down in the oncoming day. So she settled down for the night, resolved that there was no way in hell she’d be forced out of that tree on anyone’s decision but her own. Considering how high the bough was, she doubted anyone who wasn’t looking for her could even see her.

Perhaps she should’ve accounted for the fact that apparently someone _was_ looking for her.

“I’m going to have to ask what you are doing up there,” he shouted, almost conversationally. When she peeked over the edge of the bough, she found the sanctuary completely emptied. No guards, no chosen watering the roots and sweeping dirt and chattering away. Just the king and his trailing druid.

She pretended for a moment to give it some thought. Like she really intended to give them a real answer, like they were even worthy of knowing why she chose to do anything she did. She found her ruse rewarded by the clear curiosity that tilted the king’s head as both he and his companion peered up into the branches.

“It’s really none of your business,” she countered, just as she saw their interest begin to wane and patience become a little bit more of a commodity. She couldn’t help but smile down at them as sweetly as she knew how, but they both remained unfazed by it, or perhaps they couldn’t even see it.

She hoped that little bit of resilience would be enough to make them leave, so she waited, stretched herself out along the branch to rest her cheek against the heel of her palm. The two were almost laughably different. Amberle’s uncle with his chest puffed out and arms cross defensively across it. She’d known too many men like that, eager to make themselves look stronger and bigger than they actually felt. Well, that really described just about every man she had met in her life. Evidently a king was no exception.

His strange friend on the other hand, he was something different in his entirety. He’d made her nervous when she’d first encountered him and that unease kept itself at home in her gut. He stood, back straight, hands clasped behind his back.

Even so, what an amusing pair, she thought.

She couldn’t mull on it for long though. The king finally relented any pretense of patience and made to leave, shaking his head with annoyance, anger. Maybe he’d fetch the guards, try and drag her from the tree by force. But as she already decided, that wasn’t going to happen. He was certainly going to have a time trying to make it so.

But the druid caught his arm and leaned in close, spoke to him, tone too quiet and lost beneath the gentle breeze that flittered through the sanctuary, rustled the leaves around her.

Whatever the druid said was apparently enough. The tension loosened in the king’s shoulders, his hands that had clenched tight into fists, released at his sides. It wasn’t enough to make him turn back to her though. When he finally spoke up once more, his voice echoed only just loud enough for her to hear and was only short of snide. “This is all very unconventional.”

And with that, the king swept out of the sanctuary without another glance to her or the Ellcrys.

The druid lingered behind though, drawing closer to the tree with measured steps, letting his eyes drift along the truck of the tree with each stone step he climbed.

Curiosity piqued, she slid closer to the edge of the bough. He must not have minded if Eretria watch his display of respect as he just ignored her. He took off a glove, ran a hand along the heavy, twisting roots of the Ellcrys. For a moment, so short she almost thought she imagined it, she thought she felt a warmth seep up through the bark.

He left soon after, only turning once he made it to the heavy doors. The druid clasped his hands before him and tilted his head to look up at Eretria once more. But by then she had already backed up higher into the branches. Shielded by a thicket of leaves, she was certain he couldn’t see her. But he looked up nonetheless. She wondered what was going through his mind. What kind of thoughts did a person like him have? But before she could observe, try to figure him out, he turned and strode out.


	2. Chapter 2

She ran out of food pretty quickly. The last crumb from the far too hard crust of her last bit of bread felt almost insignificant in her belly when she knew there was nothing to follow it with. She could have packed more, stuffed her pack with enough to last her a whole week, maybe even more. Jerky would have been a good bet, some grains. But that expense of weight had felt pointless considering she knew all too well that she’d have to sneak down from the tree eventually.

She resolved to collect nuts and berries from the forest surrounding the sanctuary each morning she went to refill her canteen. As she made her way through the underbrush, she kept her eye out for anything edible, anything that might have been long lasting. Those mornings were quiet things. Always still as the sun edged its way further up into the sky with each passing second. Birds didn’t do much by way of song, but some chirped here and there, fledglings cried for their mothers on occasion, the wings of mourning doves whistled as they fled from her path. Other than that, the stillness of the forest was foreign to her. Nothing like the woods that the rovers called their home. Dark places even in the brightest of days, always full of too many lives competing to keep on living. The tension of danger with each predator that lurked just out of sight.

There were no predators there, though. No rovers with their bird calls ready to pounce on some unsuspecting passerby, no bears searching for scraps of meat, no wolves stalking in the shadows.

But one morning she wandered far. Her feet ambled her through the trees, their trunks like spindles jutting into the sky. Soon enough, she found the sanctuary far from sight and just beyond the crest of the ravine, she could see the palace.

The opportunity was just too good to pass. A good in and out, leave them high and dry before they knew what hit them. Or, as high and dry as she could manage. Even she knew one person could hardly put a dent in any reserves kept to feed a palace.

She didn’t really sneak in as much as she just strolled in. It worked the first time she did it all those months before, and she was hardly surprised to find it worked once more. The Four Lands might not have been in complete peace, when is there ever complete peace, after all? But something about a lack of a looming threat seemed to bring about a sense of levity among the elves. She thought it was probably one of their weakest points. Rovers survived because they trusted no one, even in the best of times. Not each other, not even themselves. She didn’t see how the elves survived when just anyone could find their way through those labyrinthine corridors, deep in the heart of elven royalty.

So getting to the kitchen was almost laughably easy. Not keen to waste time, she yanked open her bag. There was an array to choose from. Fruits still fresh and plump and eager to be bitten into. A nice hefty chunk of some kind of cheese she bundled in alongside some brilliantly green bell peppers. The smell of them all but wrenched a growl from her stomach. She was halfway finished raiding the root cellar when she heard the door to the kitchens creak open.

“You aren’t as clever as you think. I instructed them to let you through.”

She almost dropped the bag she was stuffing some potatoes into. With a sigh, she shuffled back out into the kitchen to find the druid standing in the large archway, regarding her with only mild distaste.

“And why would you do something like that?” She made her way back to the center of the kitchen, set the bag on a counter and opened it wide, nestled some half empty bottles of wine into it.

“Because you are to be the royal gardener.”

She frowned. “The what what-ner?”

“Royal gardener. The last one died, of course. You might remember.” He circled the counter to the other side, picked up some more fruits from one of the bowls and tossed them into the bag. “You were accused of murdering him, after all.”

“I’m not going to be some gardener.”

“Why not? You’re already sequestered up there.” He motioned to the bag. “And it doesn’t look like you’re planning to stay down any time soon. Of course, if you did decide to stay down, there would be a room here in the palace for you.”

She sent him a sneer across the counter and he looked thoroughly unaffected by it. “And what does the king think of all this?” She cinched the bag shut before he could add anything else to it.

“He doesn’t care about what you do, just as long as you stay out of trouble. He has more important things to deal with than some rover girl sneaking into the palace for some fruits and vegetables.”

She laughed at that and hoisted the bag up, pulling the strap over her shoulder as she tried not to wince at how heavy it had become. She didn’t look forward to climbing back into the Ellcrys with it on her back. But there was also no way she was staying in the palace with the judgmental stares and hushed gossip ready to mill once she turned the corner. She didn’t need to even think about it.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass,” she said. She didn’t even give him a chance to respond before she shuffled from the kitchen and back down the corridor. There was something comforting, knowing that just beyond those walls, past the forest and far from the teeming halls full of elves, the Ellcrys was waiting for her to return to the refuge of its canopy.


End file.
